


Go With the Flow

by clgfanfic



Category: War of the Worlds (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 19:40:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team run into gamers...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go With the Flow

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Green Floating Weirdness #6 under the pen name Gillian Holt.

_"They're too cute to waste, can't we keep them a little longer?"_

 

          "This way," Lieutenant Colonel Paul Ironhorse hissed, grabbing Harrison Blackwood's arm and swinging the scientist in the direction taken by the young man with skin-rot.

          "I see him," the lanky astrophysicist said, slapping the colonel's arm and sprinting off after the co-ed.

          "Damn it, Blackwood, you're supposed to wait for me," the colonel complained, jogging after him.  "I'm the security here, remember?"

          "And you're doing a fine job of it, too, Colonel."

          Ironhorse's fingers itched to draw the Beretta from his shoulder holster, but they were on a highly populated college campus in Tucson, Arizona, and running around armed was a surefire way to draw unwanted attention.  Just his luck.  Why did the aliens insist on haunting populated areas where he couldn't use them for target practice?

          The puggy young man in question waddled anxiously off the main campus and into a collection of shops, cafes and other more mysterious nooks and crannies lining a twisted street just past the University's main gates.  His robe whipped around his bare ankles as he walked.

          The two Project members lost sight of their prey for a moment as a group of young women exited a store, talking excitedly about a particular young man in their biology lab.

          "In there," Blackwood said, pointing to a plywood door painted black.  It fell into place just as Ironhorse looked.  Harrison charged forward.

          "Damn it, mister, _after_ me!" the colonel bellowed from behind the civilian, chasing after him.

          He was too late.  Blackwood burst into the murky darkness beyond the door, coming to an abrupt halt when he realized he couldn't see a damn thing.

          "Black-wo-od!"  The colonel started, and ended in a startled hiccup.

          Damn.  Damn.  Damn!

          He hadn't felt the danger until it was too late.  Blackwood was rubbing off on him.  Now there was an arm wrapped securely around his throat and an unidentified weapon pressing against his temple, cold and threatening.

Great, just great.

          He choked back his initial response to attack, retaliation, afraid there might be others hiding in the room.  Blackwood was still in danger.

The weapon remained pressed against his skin with all the force necessary to make itself known, a constant reminder of his momentary stupidity.  This was Blackwood's fault.  The damned idiot was completely oblivious to the most simple security procedures despite years of exposure to the soldier!  It was like trying to teach a rock to roll over!

          Ironhorse slowly twisted his head, trying to see who was holding him, but it was impossible in the near midnight darkness.  All he managed was a brief glimpse of black leather covering the arm around his throat.

          One thought pervaded Ironhorse's mind.  _I can't die now!  Not in front of Blackwood, and definitely_ not _like this!_

          He could _feel_ a cold smile spreading across the face of his opponent, and a soft, menacing chuckle echoed from the throat.  A challenge to his rank and manhood.  Death had never been one of Ironhorse's favorite possibilities, and now was no exception.  Not before he'd had an opportunity to kill Blackwood himself – with his bare hands…

          There might be a chance, but it was a slim one, if he could just keep the situation under control long enough, maybe, just maybe, the Omega Squad would find them and stop he and Blackwood's unpleasant demise.  Then, he'd take care of the Doctor…

          "Identify yourselves, strangers," came a husky female voice out of the darkness.  The accent was Cockney.

          Blackwood swung around, keeping Ironhorse in view while peering into the blackness.  "We mean you no harm," he said, his hands coming up, palms turned out.  "We're just looking for someone.  A young man in a homespun robe, and a… skin condition."

          "That's _not_ what I asked, Ducky.  _Who_ are you?"

          _Good, real good, Doctor_ , Ironhorse thought.  _You'll get us killed at this rate.  Answer the woman!_

          "I'm Harrison Blackwood, and this is my… friend, Paul Ironhorse."

          "Hmm, nice names," echoed another feminine voice.  "Where are you from?"

          Blackwood paused a moment.  "Uh, California?"

          There were a series of snickers.  "I'm sorry," someone replied sympathetically.

          "And what are two guys from _California_ doing here?" asked the one holding Ironhorse.

          "We…  We got lost," Blackwood said.

          Another round of chuckles.  "Try heading west."

          _You're doing just great, mister.  They're probably trying to decide who's going to be stuck taking over the moron's body_ , Ironhorse seethed silently.

          A new voice entered the discussion.  "You make it a regular habit, barging through black doors, uninvited?"

          Christ, how many of them were there?  Ironhorse wondered.  Outnumbered, outmaneuvered... why the hell didn't Blackwood _ever_ listen to him!  "Look, we apologize for interrupting," he said through clenched teeth.  "Blackwood's a little light on tact.  We should have knocked."

          "You're right there, Ducky, you should 'a."

          The lights came up to something closer to dusk and Ironhorse squinted into the shadows.  Five women were scattered around the room.  Ironhorse's black eyes widened, eyebrows climbing.  One of the women sported pale silver skin and pointed ears, while another was dressed like a pirate from a 1920s silent film, and the third reminded him of a gypsy, although her dress was made from a silver fabric that was probably stolen from NASA.  The fourth resembled a street urchin from _Oliver_ , and, in a full length mirror to his left the soldier could make out the one holding him hostage.

          Several inches over six feet, she outweighed the soldier by at least thirty pounds, and it was muscle, he noted sadly, solid muscle.

          They were fucked.

          They had to be aliens.

          If they weren't, they should be.

          With black hair and blue eyes, his enemy was dressed in a body-fitting black leather jumpsuit, decorated with various silver chains and Conchos.  She was a frightening sight, but it was the short sword in her hand, the hilt of which was still pressed against his temple that held the colonel's attention.

          " _What_ are you doing here?" the Amazon asked, her breath caressing his ear.  She purred and grinned.

          Ironhorse shot Blackwood a pleading look, but the civilian shrugged slightly.  _Damn, him_ , the colonel thought.  _He's enjoying this!  Target practice, Blackwood…_

          "To be perfectly truthful, ladies, we were chasing an alien," Harrison said matter-of-factly.

          The women broke into peels of laughter.  "Oh, boy.  We've heard that one before, haven't we?" Cockney howled and they erupted again.

          "You have?" Ironhorse squeaked, the feel of the well-endowed, laughter-vibrating chest pressed against his back turning his ears red.

          "More times than we care to remember," Cockney explained, moving closer to Blackwood.  "It's a guy's row.  I'm convinced of it."  She traced a finger along the scientist's jaw line, and smiled, then circled around him.  "Hmm, a fine, firm bum, I'd say."

          _That's the truth.  He is a bum_ , Ironhorse thought.  _A bum who_ never _listens to me_.

          The women giggled, nodding their agreement.

          "And this one, too," Amazon concurred, one of her hips bumping against the colonel's.  "So, do we do 'em, or tie 'em up and leave 'em for Zelda?"

          Ironhorse blushed furiously.  _Do 'em?_

          "Wait a minute," the pirate said.  "I'm curious.  Where's this _alien_ from?"

"That's classified," Ironhorse said, but Blackwood was also answering.

          "Mor-tax."

          "Mortax?" the gypsy echoed.  "That anywhere near Kobol?"

          Blackwood shuffled nervously.  "Uh, no," he said, not recognizing the reference.  "It's in the Taurus system."

          _Keep it up, mister, and you'll end up in Leavenworth!_

          The woman dressed in silver moaned.  "Oh, Goddess, a couple of purists."

          "Look," Ironhorse growled, losing patience.  "We're on a top secret—"

          "Those rules don't apply here, Cupcake," Amazon said, giving the colonel's throat a squeeze.  "Let's just do 'em," she pleaded.  "Please?"

          _Cupcake?_

          'Cupcake?' Blackwood mouthed.

Ironhorse's eyes narrowed dangerously.

          "Wait!" Gypsy and Pirate chorused.  "They're too cute to waste, can't we keep them a little longer?"

          Blackwood shook his head.  "I'm, I'm very sorry ladies, but we really do have to go… find that young man… but have you noticed anything… out of the ordinary?"

          "That's just brilliant, Doctor!" the colonel snarled.

          "No," Cockney said, her forehead wrinkling.  "Except my Pros pal didn't knock me up this morning."

          Blackwood's eyes widened, but he prudently held his tongue.  He smiled his most charming.  "If we could just take a look around, we'd be more than happy to leave and forget this ever happened."

          Amazon shook her head, but the others gathered together, whispering heatedly amongst themselves.

          Silver walked over to stand in front of Ironhorse.  She smiled and wagged her eyebrows.  "They are… passable, aren't they," she said.  "Still, it's a free planet.  Look, are you armed?"

          "Uh, yes," the colonel admitted, knowing a superficial search would reveal the Beretta and the battle baton.

          _Great!  They're going to kill us with my weapons!  That'll look just wonderful on the report_ …

          "Okay, look, if you'll leave your weapons in that box over there at the bar, you can look around, but I'd be careful about barging in on the other rooms here without knocking.  They might not be as understanding as we are."

          Ironhorse allowed himself a shaky grin.  "Thanks."

          "Aww," the Amazon complained, releasing Ironhorse.  "You guys _never_ let me have any fun."

          "Down, girl," Pirate said.

          Ironhorse walked over to the cardboard box and looked inside.  An interesting collection of edged weapons and something that looked like a laser gun rested inside.

          _This is weird.  Leave it to Blackwood to find weird._

He glanced back at Harrison, but the scientist was occupied with something else entirely.  The young man who had lured them into their predicament waddled into the room.

          "There!" Blackwood said, lunging to block off any escape.

          Ironhorse reached instinctively for his Beretta, taking aim at the robe-clad figure.

          "Aahhh!" Rot-face said, scurrying for Amazon.

          "Patrick!" the tall woman snapped.  "What did you do to these guys?"

          "Nothing!"

          "Freeze!"  Ironhorse barked out in his best command voice.  "Hold it right there."  He nodded at Patrick.  "You, step out in the open."

          "Look," the boy stuttered.  "I _quit_ assassins, okay?  I couldn't take the stress.  I'm _not_ a target anymore."

          Blackwood fished in his pocket, coming up with a Geiger-counter, which he trained on Ironhorse's target.

          "Well?" the colonel asked.

          Harrison's forehead wrinkled and he slapped the device against his open palm several times before pointing it at the boy again.  "Nothing."

          "Nothing?"

          "Nope."

          "But he's an alien," Ironhorse argued.  "Look at his face."

          Patrick's lips pressed into a bud of indignation.  "I am _not_ an alien.  I'm a cleric, and I have skin rot."

          "Yeah," Gypsy added.  "His spell fizzled."

          "Spell?" Ironhorse asked.

          Harrison eyes widened.  "Oh… _oh_ , now I get it!"

          The colonel scowled at the scientist.  "Care to share, Doctor?"

          "They're gamers!  _Live_ gamers.  I've never actually seen live gamers before."

          _And you've seen dead ones?_   "Blackwood, what the hell are you talking about?"

          "Right," Amazon said, walking over to slip an arm around Patrick's shoulders.  "Pat's my little brother.  He's part of the AD&D group.  They've got Room C, we're part of a Darkover group."

          Harrison's face lit up.  "Amazing.  You rent out this building, fix up the rooms to match the setting, and play in full costumes?"

          "That's right," Cockney said.  "We're dabbling in all sorts 'a things around here."

          "They just opened up a Callihan's," Silver said.  "You should check it out."

          "Callihan's?"  Blackwood looked like he was in rapture.  "Colonel, we have to take a look.  I just _love_ Callihan's."

          "What the hell's a Callihan?  And what about—"

          "Colonel, Colonel, Colonel," Harrison said, walking over to wrap an arm around Ironhorse's shoulders.  "I can see your education is sadly lacking in some of the more subtle and finer points of culture."  He looked at the women.  "Ladies, apologize for interrupting your game.  Now, if you'll excuse us, I'm going to introduce Paul here to Callihan."

          "Room A," Pirate said.  "Enjoy, but if you get bored, come on back!"

          Blackwood smiled and winked.  "Maybe we will.  Come on," he said, leading the solider toward the far door.

          "Harrison, would you _please_ explain what's going on?"

          "You're a good story teller, Colonel, this should be easy…"


End file.
